


Shake

by TrexReach100



Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Blowjobs, Boys Being Idiots, Explicit Sexual Content, Homophobia, Internal homophobia, M/M, TW HOMOPHOBIC LANGUAGE, adrian is twisty, deran is stupid, im not sure this has a happy ending, implied non consent, well not for Deran anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-29 17:50:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8499415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrexReach100/pseuds/TrexReach100
Summary: Based off of the tumblr prompt 'I'm a cop and I have to arrest you but...dude"---A heart cannot break itself and I cannot shake myself from you.





	1. Barroom Blitz

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> _Let me rewind to the times where we never felt ill. We fill our minds with those dreams and we never miss a beat._  
> 

**Deran**

 

Deran leans over the bar watching Pope eyeball people like any minute now they're going to attack.  It's a habit he developed in prison and though it's been three years and there's not been so much as a rattle from his PO he can't rid himself of it.  Baz and Craig make fun of him, when walking around on eggshells got old they began to walk with their shoulders tucked under their ears and their eyes narrowed assessing everything from Lena wandering around the kitchen to the water dripping out of the tap.  Pope never calls them out on it whether that's because he doesn't realise they're mocking him, doesn't care, or he's finally back to taking his meds Deran's got no clue.  He's just glad no one's causing any fucking drama.

It was supposed to be a 'quiet' evening at the bar but Craig's gathered some chicks from somewhere and he's daring one to do a shot off of her small friend.  Baz is watching but not engaging and Pope is staring sullenly at them all.  Deran watches pretending to be interested, he smiles and laughs at the right time but he's tired and all he really wants to do is go to bed and say good night to this weird day.  It's the anniversary of Cath's disappearance and it's got Baz feeling morose and Pope extra sulky.  Deran doesn't know how to deal with his own emotions let alone someone else's so it fell to Craig to figure out how to make this day feel a little less like the worst ever.  Smurf has Lena all cuddled up in her pyjamas and blankets watching some Disney movie about a fish with no mommy (subtle).  She'd have Baz there too if Craig hadn't been so god damn insistent that she not treat him like a baby.

"He needs his brothers not his mommy and a kids movie." he groans outrageously put out by this almost obstacle.  "He's not sitting home like a pussy."

And like that they're here consoling Baz over the sudden and unexplainable disappearance of his wife with barely legal girls and Sambuca.  Deran gets a whiff of it every time one of them gets close to him.  She's begging for it but he's unaffected by the tiny bikini and the silky hair.  Well he isn't unaffected but his dick is having none of it.  He'd worry he was impotent but at night when he has _that_ dream it pitches a sheet tent so he knows there's nothing physically wrong.  He doesn't lack the ability just the right inspiration.

Pope slaps his hands down on the bar top.  Deran and Baz look over at him.  Because there are tits in his face Craig just glances.  "I need to piss." He announces tonelessly.  One of the girls makes a face.  He levels her with an empty stare and she blushes embarrassed.  Seeing the effect he has on women Deran can't help but wonder if Pope has had sex since he got out of prison.  Probably not.

The guy comes out of nowhere in that way that people appear without warning in a crowded setting.  One minute they don't see him and the next minute he's bumping into Pope's back and because Pope never knew a situation he couldn't coax a fight from he says, "Excuse you." Tone all heavy sarcasm.

To which the guy says, "Sorry - dick."

He tries to step past but Pope anticipates him.  "What did you say?" He asks, eyes so narrow they're squints.

The guy squirms realising he isn't going to get away with this drive by.  "I said sorry."

"Yeah, you said sorry," Pope pauses for effect.  Baz exchanges a look with Deran.  So much for no one causing drama.  "And then you called me a dick."

The guy puts his hands palms up between them.  "Look man I don't want any trouble.  Just forget about it."

Baz puts his hand on Popes shoulder already there to pull his younger brother back.  Pope's single mindedness makes it easy for him to ignore it's there. 

"You better watch what you say to people." he mutters nostrils flaring like a bull ready to charge.

Baz leans into his ear, "Come on buddy it's not worth it." he squeezes Popes shoulder trying to bring him out of the confrontation and into the bar.  Baz has been reading up on Pope's condition, learning how to handle his moods and moments.  It's not out of a sense of brotherly love but more born from a need to be able to control him.  They need to start running jobs again and they can't have Pope going awol because he's forgotten to take a dose.  He looks at the other guy, "Just get out of here man." he doesn't spare him any more attention than that, his eyes are always on Pope.

"Gladly." Then because this guy is obviously an idiot and this night needs to suck more he mutters, "Fucking psycho."

Pope tears himself from Baz's grip and leaps on the guy.  They hit the floor.  The guy's head crashes into some stool legs on the way down but he's still fighting and they struggle across the floor together.  They look like idiots and there's more clothes pulling and face smushing than punching.  Pope's gone red and the other guy pales at the look of single minded murder in his eyes.  Deran swears he saw them glow once but Craig said it was just the pool light because Pope can be a beast but he's still a man.

Being the biggest it's always been Craig's job to break up fights which is hilarious when he's just as likely as Pope to start them but despite the 'endowments' before him he doesn't shirk his duties now and he wades in ready to grab their brother and haul him out of the fire.  Except to the educated eyes of this guys buddies this look like he's getting involved and they march over ready to prove a point.  The point being that when more than three people try to fight the chances of a brawl go up exponentially.  Deran barely makes it out of the way before Craig's got a guy on his back monkey style, not one to slack when it comes to defending his favourite sibling he hooks an arm around the guys neck and yanks him down.  The guy throws an elbow back and white light explodes behind his lids.  He punches back, a groin shot and the guy collapses to the floor.  He looks around to count his brothers seeing only Baz trying to push those who think it'll be a laugh to join in and Craig who thinks he's helping by punching as many people as he can.  Pope is still on the floor and Deran can't tell if the body beneath him is fighting back or if it's only moving because he's hitting it.

If they don't get out of here soon Pope's gonna kill someone.

He can't see the bar tender which means he's either hunkering down behind the bar until everyone is unconscious or he's calling the cops.  Blue and red lights illuminating the melee are his answer.  Cops pile in one after the other and they get to work making sure the situation doesn't get better before it gets worse.  They shout orders to stop and break it up waving batons around.  Some get a swift strike to the belly, one girl catches a glancing blow that splits her lip.  She cries out.  Deran motions to Craig to quit fucking about and help him grab Pope.  He bends at the waist and barrels through the barrier of bodies that separate them, he's almost close enough to pull on Pope's arm as it rises to strike again when two arms wrap themselves around his chest and yank him backwards.  The momentum forces his whole body backwards and he loses contact with the floor for a weightless second.  His hair is all in his face obscuring his vision and now he's lost sight of Craig and there's no hope for Pope.  He only hopes Baz has bail money because Deran sure as shit doesn't.

The arms continue to drag him and he puts up a cursory fight but they don't stop until they're past the toilets and out the door.  The fresh night air makes him gasp and he throws his head back to inhale not realising just how hard it felt to breathe in there.  He chokes and hacks up blood.  His whole face is on fire and it's hard to tell if he's bleeding from his nose or his mouth or both.  He wipes the back of his hand across his lips and it comes away red.  Deran hasn't been in a fight in a long time and he should use this as a reminder as to why not but he finds himself thinking more along the lines of 'well why not?' he doesn't suck at it and the pain is better than the tired numbness that's been creeping into his muscles since J's presence is forcing them to lay low for longer than Deran can afford.  He sniffs and his nose screams.  It's broken.  He doesn't even remember getting hit.  Now that he's got enough air in and around him his brain is starting to realise just how much it hurts.  His hands shaky as he pushes his hair back smearing red on the strands to clear his vision.

Two feet stand before him wearing thick black boots.  They look like issue boots.  He follows the legs up to the torso, to the chest and finally to its heartbreakingly familiar face.

Blood continues to drip from his face, he hears it hit the road in the astonished silence.

Adrian.  The sight of him impacts Deran more than any stray punch in a bar brawl.

"Adrian." he coughs. 

Adrian in a uniform.  A fucking cop.

"Jesus." he sneers.  He rakes a disgusted look over him that gets Deran's back up.  There's a lack of conviction to it though and it blunts the edges of the insult until it grazes him rather than scratches.  Then it's gone and in its place is a mix of anger and confusion.

Deran swallows a lump of God knows what.  "What?" he gasps.

"Just-" Adrian runs a hand over his face.  "Just- Jesus."

Deran's breath rattles through his teeth.  Neither man both surprised at the sight of the other knows what to say.

"You look like shit." Adrian says eventually.

Deran wants to say the same but he can't.  Adrian looks good in a cops uniform.  He's bulked out since they last saw each other, his biceps fill out the sleeves of his dark shirt and his face has lost the softness it once hand.  His eyes look harder but they're still framed by light lashes and he's not lost the smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose.  Clearly surfing isn't the only work out he's doing now.  Deran knows he should hate him on sight not because Adrian's a bad guy but because the uniform is a bad sign.  It's puzzling.  The police force is hardly known for having the most relaxed attitude and Adrian's always been about that bohemian life.  It feels like a betrayal to see him in uniform, it's like Adrian's purposefully trying to be unrecognisable.

Three years is a long time.

"Thanks."

Adrian nods.

Deran's spent many nights thinking about the last time they saw each other.  He's spent hours going over it from the start of the day, to the party, to the tears outside the shack.  He's analysed what they said, how they looked, how it felt.  After Belize they fought a lot.  There are parts of Deran's life he will always keep to himself and Adrian was, is, one of them.  He didn't understand the near panic it forced upon Deran when he thought people might find out about them and that was great but it was also terrible because it meant that Deran was always the villain.  Normally after a spat they'd put some space between them but it was always just a simple case of avoiding their beach spots, sending Craig to collect the rent at the shop.  Then when Deran thought enough time had passed they'd meet in the ocean and make up.

_"You can't make me feel something I don't._

Those were final words.  Space stretched between them infinite, the months turning to years and the defeat infecting him like a cancer.  He'd lost the game and the guy.

This is too awkward.  He didn't think it would ever be this awkward but how could it not be? Deran said some awful things, he did some awful things but in his fantasies he's forgiven.  He sees Adrian at a party, or on the street and they talk and they arrange to go surfing like old times and then they do other things like old times and Adrian turns to him, the sun making his skin glow, his hands warm on Deran's chest and he looks up at him and says, _"I understand and I get it.  We'll keep it quiet.  It's okay."_.

"What were you doing?"

There is no forgiveness here because there is nothing here.  It's like they never were.

Deran licks his lips.  "Drinking."

Adrian's look is a warning.  Such a familiar expression.  Don't start, don't push it, don't be such an asshole.  He didn't pay much attention before but there's something harder about it, more commanding.  Must be the police training because he almost feels contrite.

"Why is it that wherever you go chaos erupts?" he sounds annoyed.

The Cody curse?

Sweat collects at the base of his spine.  This summer is gearing up to be the hottest in five years.  They're battling the south for the highest temperatures recorded.  All that prickling heat is a gas ring under everyone's feet, the fight in the bar like a pot boiling over.

"You used to like the chaos." A smart mouth is another Cody curse.

Adrian stiffens his blue eyes icing over.  "I used to like a lot of things that we're bad for me."

"Oh come on." Deran spits hackles raised.  "So are you gonna arrest me or what?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"Can't believe you're a cop." he doesn't keep the scorn out of his tone.

"Can't surf forever."

"Though that was the whole plan."

Adrian's look spears him, "Plans change.  Doesn't look like yours have though.  Still working for Smurf and causing trouble."

"That a question or an assumption?"

"I'm rarely wrong when it comes to you." the disappointment makes him wince.

"I'm not there anymore." he blurts with all the finesse of a car crash.

"Not where?"

"Smurfs.  I moved out a while back."

Adrian actually smiles and it's devoid of anything that would really qualify it as one.  Okay maybe there is something between them.  Anger.  But love and hate are separated by a very thin line.

"Like when you moved out the first time? Or the second or the third?"

With every question Deran can feel himself get smaller and smaller.  "It's true." He hasn't lived at Smurfs for years but she keeps their rooms intact for them.  In the old days his apartment looked more like a neglected show home but he can't stand Julia's kid so he's living there until the kid fucks off to college or some shit.

"I don't care." he snaps.

 _"Can't make me feel something I don't."_ The words echo.

This is not a fantasy.  Adrian doesn't even look the same anymore, sure there are bits of him Deran recognises but put altogether he is completely different.  He even sounds different.  Confident but cold.  Adrian was never cold, even when he was trying there was always a lip quiver, a pooling in his eyes that betrayed his feeling.  Maybe it's too dark to see it now.

"I should arrest you."

Deran throws his arms out, "So arrest me."

"Is that what you want? You want to sit in a cell until tomorrow? You want her to bail you out?"

Deran didn't even think about that.  Of course his mother would come to bail him out and she'd give him shit for it afterwards.  She'd probably guilt trip him into staying at hers too.  "No." he drops his arms.

Voices tumble out into the dark distracting them both.  "You should go."

He opens his mouth to protest, to try and stay him for just another second but Adrian steps back and strides over to the rabble getting stuck in herding those in cuffs over to the cruisers that have multiplied since they've been biting their tongues.

Adrian.

Holy shit Adrian.  Seeing him is like breaking the surface after a twenty footer.

Home is now the last place he wants to be.  It hurts as much as it did the last time to watch him walk away, worse because it seemed so easy and yet Deran can't stop the hope from poisoning his heart.  It spreads across it infecting each cell until it gets into his nerves and tells his brain that this isn't the last time he'll see Adrian.  He knows what he does now and he knows where he'll be.  He thought he'd gone back to Belize chasing waves and winning trophies but he's here in San Diego and it's not that big a beach.

He doesn't stop looking even after the squad cars are all full and the crowd has dispersed.  He's still staring even though Adrian isn't there he's just an impression on Deran's brain.

Deran stares until Craig comes running down the alley. 

"Pope got arrested." he pants.

Shit.


	2. Give

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> _I've been wasting all these nights trying to keep you off my mind._  
> 

**Adrian**

Deran.

The name is a curse if only he could bring himself to say it like that.  The most he can manage is a tired exhale, a frustrated puff through his teeth.  Even in his head he can't spit it because he's too busy sighing it bittersweet.  It's not 'Deran.' it's 'Deran...' with ellipses containing their past.  Every kiss with his stubborn sneering mouth, every touch with his violent hands, every look with his demanding eyes.  Every time he made Adrian cry in pleasure and every time he made him cry in pain.  Between those dots are all the sun warmed moments of Belize and the sun withered moments in San Diego.  Three years is a long time easily collapsed into the blink of an eye. 

He stares at the grey of his metal locker and forces himself to remember his fractured ribs.  He forces himself to remember who did that to him.  His hand collides with the panel and he hisses as pain ricochets through his hand.  Deran is hateful and pathetic and he can't make him feel something he doesn't but one look, one look and he's in danger of doing just that.

He misses him.

No he doesn't.  He misses Belize.

Always fucking Belize.  He knew it wouldn't last forever.  Once back on US soil the romance they'd found in the surf dried up and died.  They dragged the corpse around with them for years using the water to try and bring it back to life, telling themselves it was swimming not sinking, refusing to deny that all they had left was a burden weighing them down.

There's no dent in the locker door, no physical evidence to match the static tangle in his head.  Adrian scowls at it.  He throws open the changing room door harder than he needs to but the safety hinge catches preventing a slam that would go a little way to satisfying his rapidly growing frustration.  Face thunderous he settles for storming down the hall.

Deran looked the same as ever.  Brooding but capable of turning feral if poked.  Just like Pope though less likely to snarl at his own reflection.

_"You used to like Chaos."_

That wasn't chaos that was self sabotage.  The Cody curse.  Telling Adrian he'd moved out with an inhale and on an exhale admitting that location changes didn't matter when blood linked you to Smurf.  Smurf.  Their elephant in the room.  He can feel it even now, three years later, even when he's supposed to have moved on.  He'd had the gall to act like before.  Cocky, fed up, telling Adrian with his words that he could do one thing and commanding him not to with a look.  Except that look had glowed brighter than it ever had making it look almost pleading.  Deran had begged before but it was too late then.

Should have begged sooner.

_"I'm rarely wrong when it comes to you."_

He wasn't wrong about Deran.  Time hadn't changed him the bar brawl was proof of that.

Once a Cody always a Cody.  It was in their god damn DNA.

"Woah Nelly," A soft voices cuts into the tumult of his thoughts and a small sturdy body hips checks him into the wall.  "What's with the furious stride?"

"Eager to get home." Adrian lies.

"And I am as straight as my mother pretends I am every thanksgiving."

Adrian finds a smile from somewhere.

"You and Dave still on for diner Monday? Kats cooking."

The force isn't allowed to discriminate or prevent them from working just because they're gay but there are people who aren't happy about sharing their squad cars with the them.  Adrian doesn't let it bother him, once you've had a homophobic boyfriend the homophobic attitudes of a stranger you care nothing for are easier to tune out.  But because human beings naturally segregate it's not surprising that the few out members of the squad stick together even if they don't actually have anything in common.  Safety in numbers.

Luckily for Adrian he actually likes Opal.

"So it'll be edible." 

Opal digs a knuckle beneath his ribs and in his soft cotton t-shirt it hurts.

"Oh look it's the beachfronts gayest duo!" A voice hollers across the parking lot as they both break out into the night.  A few people look up and for a second confident, shameless Opal looks embarrassed but when she answers her no apologies smile is back. 

"Sweetheart you're here to pick me up from work?" she wiggles her eyebrows at him before taking off across the lot and leaping into the arms of a very attractive woman with dark skin and electric blue hair.  Adrian waves them both off before crossing to his car.

He slings his bag into the passenger seat and digs around for his cell phone.  Two messages flash up. 

 **Opal:** Kat says she's putting gluten in everything.  Warn Dave.

He grins and opens the next one.

 **Dave:** Love you

This one should make him grin too.  It should fill him with the kind of liquid warmth that sentiments of love are designed for.  Yet it doesn't.  It doesn't make him feel awkward like unrequited affections are prone to do and it doesn't leave him feeling scared.  It doesn't even make him feel cold.  Adrian wishes it made him feel these things, these so easily labelled things, these things that could at least be explained, but he isn't so lucky because what he feels is exactly nothing.

Dave was the first to say I love you.

Because that was Dave.  Making sure the ones he cared about knew because that's what normal people did when they had emotions, they shared them.  They didn't bottle them up and then break into their boyfriends houses in the middle of the night for a violent fuck.  The problem was Adrian couldn't say it back.  He'd tried.  When they moved in together Adrian thought _'Maybe this will be it.  Maybe this will make me love him'_.  Except even after they'd assembled the furniture, christened every room, cooked their first meal and had the first Christmas Adrian still didn't love Dave.  Love didn't feel like he thought it would so he started to examine what love was.  Was it fireworks every time they touched? Was it a really good orgasm? Was it the smaller things? The way Dave fixed him breakfast every morning or made sure he recorded the summer surf competitions when Adrian couldn't get the time off to attend? Or was love as simple as not being afraid of your boyfriend?

Even after extensive self reflection and a brief concern that maybe he was as damaged as Deran made him feel the closest Adrian could get to 'I love you' was 'you too' and Dave seemed to accept that.  Neither of them talk about how Dave always says it first and Adrian still hasn't said it back.

He wants to.  God he swears he really does, but he can't.

Instead of throwing the phone back in the bag he hesitates.  His grip on the cell is tight and the white light cutting through the dark hurts his eyes.  The text was sent at lunch, Adrian doesn't turn his phone back on until the end of his shift but Dave knows this just like Adrian knows he doesn't have to reply.  This is Dave telling Adrian he loves him because he wants to, not because he expects Adrian to say it back, though he has to hope he does because who wouldn't?  And maybe it's because he's acutely aware of how shitty it makes him to deny Dave this thing he so richly deserves, and maybe it's because he's seen Deran and he knows he won't tell Dave, but instead of ignoring the message Adrian types:

**You too.  Be home soon.**

* * *

Dave was a bad idea from the start but he wasn't the first bad idea Adrian had made so when he came along, all friendly smiles and willing conversation Adrian shushed the voice that told him to stop and turn away and let himself step closer.  It was nothing but martyrdom going out with Dave.  He knew how much it would hurt to sample a life free from secrets and shame but he did it anyway because apparently punishing himself made his dick hard.  It was stupid to think proving that secrets couldn't sustain you meant that the truth wouldn't also be a trip wire.  It was monumentally stupid, so epically blind of him to have thought that he'd get away with trying to make Deran jealous but he was so fucking angry at how Deran got everything he wanted at the expense of others and rather than an exception Adrian was another rule.  There had never been an agreement of exclusivity between he and Deran but Adrian should have known better than to sample goods from another.

With the kind of jagged fear and stubborn denial blazing in his eyes Deran assured Adrian that he was the only one he'd ever sleep with.

_"Not guys.  Just you."_

It'd have been romantic if it had been about anything other than self hatred.  As well as his acid tongue Deran was covetous and selfish.  Deran didn't know if he wanted to play with his toys but he knew he didn't want anyone else playing with them.  Only when Adrian finally realised this it was too late.  The damage had already been done.

Adrian heard it from someone else of course because honesty would be admitting he was a psycho. 

_"Did you hear what happened to Dave?"_

_Adrian hadn't heard from him since Deran had broken into his place to let him know in no uncertain terms just what he thought of Dave.  It struck Adrian as odd more than a coincidence that he was hearing his name twice in a week._

_"No..."_

_"Some guy attacked him and stranded him in the water."_

Even now thinking about it, remembering what Dave looked like wrapped up in the hospital bed, tubes and wires snaking out from uncomfortable places, seeing him look so fragile...it makes Adrian feel cold all over.

Watching Dave work out in the backyard (Adrian who grew up in apartment complexes in the middle of the city never for one second thought he'd ever have a yard) you'd never guess that he spent half a year in and out of hospital.  Watching the way Adrian crosses the grass and straddles Dave on the workout bench to lay a lingering kiss on his lips you'd never know he was responsible. 

In defence of the casual observer Dave doesn't know Adrian's responsible either. 

 _"Guy didn't even say why," Adrian did his best not to let his guilt get in the way of a bewildered but understanding nod.  "He didn't even know why!  He just took me out there and tasered me into the water." his voice had trailed off his eyes taking on a faraway haunted look as he relived the trauma.  "He looked bored too! Like this was a chore, like I was just another guy on a long list of them."_  

Adrian knew it had something to do with Deran the way you know the sun is going to rise.  He didn't even have the decency to lie well.  Deran had almost looked smug his expression saying _'That's what you get.'._  

The attack had been traumatic for Dave no question but it had not left Adrian unscathed either.  It took him a year after ending it with Deran before he felt safe enough to date again.  Before he felt like it was safe for them to date him. 

Guilt lead him to Dave.  Coincidence had them in the same place but guilt is why he agreed to dinner.  As far as he knew Dave still had no idea who'd attacked him which meant he didn't know it was Pope or that his brother was his boyfriends ex boyfriend.

When Dave's tongue curls around his he wipes away the gloating look in Deran's eyes and focuses on the feel of hands at his waist and a growing interest between his thighs.  He pushes closer fisting his hands in Dave's t-shirt and rubbing his erection against his thigh.  He's breathing through his nose and it's not until he feels hands pushing at his chest that he realises he's settled all his weight onto Dave's body.  When they break apart they're both dark eyed and panting.

"What was that for?" Sweat glistens on Dave's puzzled but pleased brow.

"Sorry," Adrian smiles lopsidedly, "couldn't help myself." he eases to standing and Dave sits up with a groan.

"No need to apologise.  In fact," he slides his hands up Adrian's torso and snags the collar of his shirt using it to tug him back down, "I will insist on all greetings going this way." 

It's in a kiss from a man whose life is forever changed by Deran that Adrian finds the power to forget him.  But like all histories it's hard to outrun.  The secrets that lie in the shadows come out in the dark and even the warm body pressed up against his back in bed can't shield Adrian from thoughts of Deran.

When he finally falls asleep he dreams about Belize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Leave me comments and Kudos if you liked.
> 
>  _There is not enough Animal Kingdom love on here. Come talk to me about it over at[Fanaste](http://fanaste.tumblr.com) on tumblr._  
>  <3


	3. Coloring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Don't want the world to know I'm by myself  
>  Don't want the world to know I'm on your shelf_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long but I'm back on the angst wagon now.

The sun flashes in his periphery blocking off vision to his left.  Debris litters the street forming an obstacle course that divides his attention between keeping his gun raised and his eyes on the ground.  He’s also out of bullets.  Craig grunts before firing into the distance.  There’s a dull explosion, Deran goes flying and red trickles into his vision.

**Respawn in 3**

**2**

**1**

Craig looks at him. “Dude what is with your playing?”

His mind is elsewhere.  The split screen takes too much energy to watch.  Fighting through the new terrain and trying to keep his eye on his player and not get distracted by Craig’s screen above him is too hard for his preoccupied mind.  His brain can’t focus on the melee on tv when it can’t stop recalling the melee of the bar and, most importantly, the man who dragged him out of it.

Adrian

“Whatever man,” Craig grins, “I’m enjoying kicking your ass.”  When the game reloads they pause and his brother pulls out a small tray to roll a joint.  “You want?”

It strikes him as bizarre for Craig to ask and he’s feeling combative enough to ask why Craig wouldn’t just assume his brother wanted to get high when both men catch sight of J shrugging into his hoodie at the door.  Deran levels him a long distrustful stare.  Craig pays no mind to the hostility and asks,

“You going out?”

J gives them both an indecipherable look.  The kids a prime example of nature over nurture because he didn’t get the ability to lie seamlessly from Julia.  That gift is all Smurf.  He even looks like her when he does it.  He might not like the way that ever since the air base job she’s favoured J, but he can’t argue it’s smart to keep a closer eye on him after the shit with the police.

Eventually the youngest Cody nods.

“Girlfriends?” J shakes his head once but Deran doesn’t miss the way the atmosphere in the room has turned.  Craig is oblivious, or acts like it.  Craig has a high tolerance for bullshit (it’s a survival instinct in this family) but he has a low tolerance for petty drama.  Drama like Uncles stealing their nephews girlfriends.  Rather than not engaging in that sort of behaviour Craig straight up asked J if he was cool with him dating Nicky.  J said yes and Craig’s chosen to believe him.  Because of this they get on better than anyone else does with the kid.  Deran suspects Craig genuinely likes him.

Craig covertly glances at Deran, using the unassembled joint in his lap for cover and Deran thinks _Don’t fucking do it._ “Boyfriends?”

He wants to nut punch his brother and kill J when the kid glances at him.

He likes to think it’s the killing look he shoots that makes J look away.  “Nope.” He exhales zipping the jacket up to his neck.  “I’ll see you guys.” He gives a tight wave and leaves.

They say nothing once he’s gone.  They say nothing as Craig finishes rolling the joint and when he hands it over.  Deran doesn’t say anything until Craig gives him a ‘what’s the hold up?’ look.

“What was that?”

“Huh?” Craig looks lost.

“What the fuck was that?” he snaps.

Craig frowns still uncomprehending.  “What was what?”

“Asking J,” he all but spits his name, “where he was going?”

“I was just being friendly.  Besides Smurf still like to keep an eye.”

“Oh, so you’re her spy now?” Deran can’t believe him.

Craig makes a face.  “Chill the fuck out man.  At least he’s telling us where he’s going and not just slinking off.”

Deran makes a face right back that says he can’t believe his brother is so naïve.  “You’d think he’d tell us the truth? The kids a liar.”

Like they all are.  The Cody curse.

“You need to get over that.” Craig looks at him like his paranoia is unwarranted.

It’s like every member of his family has lost their god damn mind.  How many times did Smurf hammer into them to watch out for one another? How many long disapproving looks have they received? The kind that frighten them, the kind that carry the threat of banishment if they don’t buck up and follow her rules? How much bullshit do they put up with to keep Smurf happy?

His whole life’s worth.

The one day J waltzes in, does all the things that would have gotten them kicked to the curb faster than you can say ‘get out’ and he’s sleeping in Popes room, eating breakfasts she’s making him, getting clued into jobs!

He was going to sell them down the river.  J might have told them it was all about revenge against a detective who kept Julia high and pliant but Deran knows that if it hadn’t worked J wouldn’t have regretted their arrests.  Hell he’d probably have laughed through his testimony.

Smurf and J had a long talk that evening and the result was him being treated like the quintessential Cody.  A true grifter.  The ultimate liar who fooled everyone.

You don’t lie to family.

It’s the cardinal rule and Deran, no matter how many times he tries, cannot figure out how that doesn’t get J gone.

The game resumes.  The room fills up with the sounds of rapid tinny gun fire and explosions.  Deran dies _again_.

Craig scoffs disbelievingly.  “Are you trying to lost?”

Pride, that thing that governs Deran’s every action, has him setting the remote aside and saying, “I should go home.”

Snorting Craig replies unthinking, “You are home.”

Deran's expression hardens and he doesn’t so much stand as erupt from the recliner.  “I don’t live here anymore.”  He says forcefully.

“Right.” Sarcasm drips from Craig’s words.

“I don’t live here anymore.”

“Yeah?” Craig tokes and laughs.

Adrians voice rings clear, _"Like you moved out the first time? Or the second of the third?"_ , in his mind he scowls at them both.  "I moved the fuck out." He hasn't stayed here in months. 

"Mom's still waiting man." Craig leans back in his chair, joint dangling between his lips.  "You'll come back."

It's weird to hear him call h

er mom, they only ever call her Smurf when she's not around.  "No, I won't." The more he says it the less it sounds like a firm declaration and the more it sounds like the insistences of a petulant child.

“Why not? You gonna run off to Belize again?”

Deran feels the blow low where it was intended.  He blinks stunned by his hurt feelings.  “Fuck you.” He wheezes.

Craig, shamed, sighs tiredly, “Sorry man.”

“Whatever.” Deran says in a tone that is the opposite of how he wants to mean it.  Deran grabs at his jacket but he’s high and it makes him clumsy so he misses and Craig can’t help himself, he laughs.  “Oh fuck you Craig!”

“Oh come on man!” He groans.  “Stop taking yourself so fucking seriously.  Jesus you used to be fun.”

He glowers.

“What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.  You’re losing at Call of Duty, you’re prickly as shit and now you’re bitching me out.  Don’t tell me nothing’s wrong.  I’m not an idiot.  Not when it comes to you.”

Deran snorts because it’s a cheesy as shit to say, but it is true.  It would be easy not to tell Craig about Adrian, to instead turn on his heel and storm out, his silent request to never speak of this again, loud and clear.  It would also be just as easy to tell him the truth; that he saw his ex-boyfriend and suddenly feels…angry, guilty, scared but dangerously hopeful.

Craig knew about Deran and Adrian for weeks, months, maybe years, and said nothing.  People think Craig’s a loudmouth with no filter but he’s always kept Deran’s secret.  Craig isn’t just his brother, he’s his best friend, but Deran had been lying about his sexuality for so long the truth of it terrified him.

It isn’t surprising really when you think about where he comes from.  His whole family are liars so there’s a saying there about an apple and a tree.  Deran lies about everything.  Where he’s been, who he’s been with, how he earns his money, what he does when he’s not under his mothers roof.

Some lies are easier to tell than others of course depending on how your life hangs on the ability to deceive effectively.  But despite what people think the lie about who he is isn’t hard to tell.  It depressingly easy.  Whether it’s because nobody cares to ask so long as he’s doing as he’s told or because people just don’t care, he doesn’t know.  Maybe it’s his place in the closet, so deep in the dark he can’t see the door to open it.  Maybe it’s because it isn’t true.

Maybe Adrian was a one time thing.  An anomaly.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

“I saw Adrian.”

Craig stills, realisation dawning.  They both look at and away from each other awkwardly for a moment as Deran thinks about what Craig will say and Craig, no doubt, thinks about what to say.  The best he can come up with, apparently, is, “Well shit.” Craig’s always been a real wordsmith.  “How is that motherfucker?”

Deran blinks at him.  How is he? He looks good.  Amazing.  So fucking hot in a uniform.  He wears a uniform because he’s a- “He’s a cop.”

“No fucking shit.” Craig’s red eyes are saucer wide.  At length he says, “Well that is some shit.”

Deran spares a moment to wonder how his brother manages to sleep with so many women.

Craig scratches the back of his head and chews on his lips.  Deran knows what his brother wants to ask and he wants him to ask it as much as he doesn’t.  He wanted to tell him about Adrian to verify it, to get it on record that it was real and not just his imagination.  Only now he has to deal with the consequence.  The consequence being questions because three years is too long for his brother to be kept happily in the dark.

“So what happened? Are you, like, okay?” Craig asks tentatively.

Despite loving his brother and knowing it’s concern not nosiness Deran is still tempted to calm up about it, to shrug it off and say it was fine.  That nothing happened because they don’t talk anymore.

Deran shakes his head, then nods, then shrugs.  A boogie of denial.  “Nothing happened.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” He repeats.  “So he didn’t say anything to you? You didn’t say anything to him?”

Sure there was an exchange of words, non that had any meaning.  Deran doesn’t know what he expected after all this time but it was more than whatever they did.  He shakes his head again.  “No.”

“And that’s it?” Craig makes a sound of disbelief.

“Yeah that’s it.  What did you expect it to be?” He fins he’s asking himself more than Craig.

“Deran it’s been three years since you haven’t-“ Deran shoots him a warning glare, “-you know, since.”

He flushes, “How do you know?”

Craig gives him a look.  “Have you?”

He hasn’t.  He’s been a monk since they broke up.  There have been no others since Adrian, not casually, or seriously or drunkenly.  “It doesn’t matter.”

“No?” It’s a quiet question, asked in such a timid way that even if Deran couldn’t see the pity on Craig’s face, he could hear it.

Deran never told Craig how it started or ended.  He never told him how happy Adrian made him and how miserable he made Adrian in return.  Of course once they broke up there was nothing to talk about.  Nothing he wanted to say that words could soothe any better than a gallon of good liquor and some fantasy pills, so even if Craig felt like he had something to say Deran wouldn’t have listened.

“It’s over.”

Three years it ended.  Three years ago Adrian told him no outside the surf shop.

_“You can’t make me feel something I don’t.”_

But if he could.  God he wishes he could.

 

\- - - - -

 

He checks the coast is clear.  The actual coast, not the metaphorical one.  Craig is the kind of guy to stay up all night getting shit faced and passing out with his face down in a pillow or a pair of tits but you can’t rely on his hangover to keep him from the waves in the morning.  Everything else can get fucked at the butt crack of dawn but he’ll happily let the sea spank him like a bitch.

This morning though it seems that the sea will have to wait to beat Craig’s bedraggled ass because he’s checked no less than six times and he’s not here.

Besides, Deran isn’t avoiding Craig.  There’s no fear of overhanging awkwardness from last night because last night they put the issue to rest and neither he nor Craig stirred it again.  Deran told him it was over and Craig made it seem like he believed him.

No he’s not so much checking that the coast is clear because he wants it to be, but checking it because despite telling himself it’s good that it’s empty he’s actually disappointed.

A clear coast doesn’t just mean his brother had succumbed to his condition, but that Adrian still isn’t surfing here.

He hasn’t surfed here since they ‘broke up’.

Deran would think it cowardly if he wasn’t so busy being annoyed by his own stupid feelings of betrayal.  Like, yeah, they ended things but they didn’t have to stop seeing each other completely.  Deran could have passed the time of day with Adrian, shared the ocean and shot the shit without trying to crowd him into a corner and kissing him.

He totally could have controlled himself.

It’s arrogant really for Adrian to think that Deran has no pride.  Doesn’t he know Deran’s full of it.

That and shit, because he wouldn’t be too proud to push him even after Adrian made him cry.  He would have tried to crowd him into the back room at the shop, or hell the toilets in the parking lot, and begged him – on his knees (mouth open and ready)- for Adrian to just please, _please_ reconsider.  Just pretend the party, Dave, Smurf, and the fighting, just pretend it hadn’t happened.  Just pretend it was only the two of them together like before.

Like Belize.

Turns out Deran’s still carrying that Horse around.

He tries to bleach the memory, to shake off the feeling of happiness lost and love mishandled with each crash of a wave over his head.  He’s surfing like shit, letting the curves batter him, teasing the ocean into thinking it’s getting the better of him each time he takes longer to break the surface gasping.  His board floats away from him, the tug of his ankle cuff a demand to know what the hell is wrong with him this morning.  Did he come to surf or to drown in his sorrows and salt water?

When he gets back to the beach he sticks the board into the sand like he blames it for his piss poor performance and flops onto his back star-fishing out like a kid trying to make angels.  The sun burns his eyes and he closes them.  He wonders what it would be like to go blind.  Smurf wouldn’t bother him then.  He’d be too useless to work and too vulnerable to discard.  Smurf is cutthroat but he doesn’t doubt she’d take care of him…at least until she found out how to kill him and get away with it.  She’d call it a mercy killing no doubt.  He opens them again only to have his brain fight him hard on it.  When they slide closed a second time light spots dance behind his lids.

“That was a shit show.” Deran turns his head towards the voice, his eyes snapping open but the sun spots obstruct his critics face.

The wetsuit's familiar though, the board too.  The voice is a real gut punch.  When he can see it’s Adrian, standing with his toes curled in the wet sand, his gaze to the sea but his face turned ever so, betraying the way he tries to look like he’s only half paying attention.

Deran plays the game and says as casually as he can manage around his pounding heart.  “Yeah.  I’m hungover.”

Adrian snorts his disbelief.  “Sure.”

Deran takes a steadying breath.  The sand shifts beneath the other mans feet as he sinks down to sit.  He watches the way Adrian’s suit moulds to his body, the way the material bunches in the creases of his elbows as he rests his forearms on his knees.  He watches the way Adrian swallows.  Follows the veins pulsing softly beneath his freckled skin.  From his neck, to his clean shaven jaw, to the rounding of his earlobe.

Does he still like to be bitten there?

Adrian fits in seamlessly here.  The tips of his sandy blonde hair melting into the morning sun, the line of his jaw disappearing in the glinting light when he turns his head.  He is the missing puzzle piece Deran thought this landscape could live without but he’s only got to see the beauty of the whole picture, to feel the completeness of it, to realise how stupid he was to think that.

He clears his throat.  “I thought you gave up surfing.”

Deran catches Adrian glance out of the corner of his eye.  “I didn’t say that.”

“ _Can’t surf forever_.” Deran quotes.

“I don’t compete anymore.  I still surf.”

“Not here thought.” It sounds like a statement but it feels like more of a question.

Adrian answers by not answering.  Deran doesn’t need one anyway because he already knows.  He isn’t the only one with pride and it seemed that after they – okay Adrian- called it quits he also called it quits on his job at the shop and surfing at this end of he beach.

“You look like shit.”

Deran’s first instinct is to scowl but he only has to see the faint tug of amusement on Adrian’s face to hesitate long enough to realise he’s just reference their conversation from the alley.  Without prompt and without the hostility that hung between them then.  It feels too good to be joking with him that Deran’s struck mute with fear that he’ll ruin it before they’ve started.

As equally afraid of his silence Deran says what he wanted to in the alley.  “You look good.  You look…” he fumbles.

How did he do this before? It wasn’t all touching in the dark, sloppily exchanged kisses and communicating via moans and groans.  In Belize they talked.  They talked while they surfed, while they ate, while they played.  They talked before, during and after sex.  They talked about everything and nothing.  Adrian’s history, Deran’s history, their families and childhoods.  After two thousand miles and glittering turquoise water as far as the eye could see Deran felt like he could breathe.  The collar Smurf buckled around his neck fell away and every exhalation brought with it the urge to confess, to divest himself of secrets he’d been forced, but didn’t always know why, to keep.

The more Adrian listened the more Deran spoke.  He didn’t think they’d ever stop but as the plane descended back towards San Francisco Deran felt the familiar pinch of his collar and by the time they hit the tarmac all his words were blocked.

Now he sits on the ground and it’s not that he can’t find his words but there are too many and too many of them are wrong.  Too weak, too strong, too false or too true.

“You look good.” He finishes. 

Adrian rakes a hand through the sand.  “Thanks.”

This isn’t exactly how he wanted this to go.  The first time he can blame on being blindsided but the second? Seeing Adrian for the first time was like a dream, a vision resulting from head trauma.  Seeing him now is nothing like a dream.  The silence is too awkward.  The discomfort to stubborn to die.

Deran inhales and tries again.  “I wanted to ask how you were doing.”

He wants to know Adrian’s good but he also wants to hear that he’s still single and that maybe they could hook up again for old times sake because Deran’s still not over him.  He drove him away because he was in deep with Smurf but now he’s broken the surface of her spell he can see just what he really lost and it’s driving him mad.  Deran has a lot of regrets but he’s never regretted anything as much as he regrets driving Adrian away.  He can’t stop thinking about him and if he ever told anyone how much in the last three years they’d be forcing Pope’s medication on him.

“I’m fine.” Adrian replies easily.  Deran wonders if he’s half as affected.

Yeah?”

Adrian turns to him, his face clear of deception, buoyed by the confidence of truth.  “Yeah.”

It feels like a knife to the heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come yell at me about Animal Kingdom over at [Fanaste](http://fanaste.tumblr.com)  
> Comments and CC always appreciated.


	4. Once

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm a traitor, I'm the cause, I'm the breaker of your heart. I ain't sayin' what you want.

**Adrian**

 

Dave knows about Deran, but only in passing.  Six months into their relationship was the last and only time Adrian can remembering the Cody’s name being on Dave’s lips, and it was a mispronunciation.

Adrian sat back in the yard soaking up the feel of grass beneath his bare feet, smiling like engaging in the obligatory ex’s talk wasn’t unnecessary and something he couldn’t really participate in.  In front of them logs crackled in the regulation fire pit and both men took turns asking questions like, ‘how many boyfriends since coming out?’, ‘how many before?, ‘do you keep in touch with them?’.  Turns out Dave only kept in touch with one.  His high school boyfriend.

“He’s married now.  Lives in San Francisco – I know right? He just married the captain from his old junior league soccer team.” He smiled fondly.  “What about you?”

Adrian contemplated admitting that his last boyfriend had been emotionally (and sometimes physically) abusive but in that addictive ‘you’d-understand-if-you-knew-what-he-was-really-like’ way, but he didn’t want to appear weak.  He didn’t want to speak the words out loud and leave them vulnerable to being picked apart to reveal the harsh truth that to understand Deran didn’t make it forgivable.  Just because he knew about the Cody family and how they lived didn’t excuse Deran from being a decent person.  It didn’t give him a pass to tear others down with his self-destructive behaviours.  To admit that he let himself linger for so long in a toxic relationship did not make Deran look like the bigger bad guy, it made Adrian look like the smaller weakling.  So he lied.

“I’ve never really had a relationship before now.” He’d feigned his embarrassment.

“What about that guy Darren?” Dave asked, not disbelieving but surprised.

Adrian worked not to breathe in too hard, not to think too long but not to answer too quickly.  He pulled his whole body tight afraid any twitch could betray the way his heart beat out of sync every time someone mentioned Deran’s name, even incorrectly.  “You mean Deran?”

“Yeah him.  He seemed kind of…possessive.  You weren’t with him?”

“No.” Adrian tore at the label on his beer bottle.  “I was definitely not with him.” Which of course was as true as it wasn’t when being together meant hiding and never telling another living soul about them.  Being with Deran meant listening to him deny who he was and what they were.  No they weren’t together but they always ended up in the same bed.

“Did he know that? I got the impression he was not joking when he was giving me shit about my job.”

"You remember that?" Adrian strove to sound cool.

"Weird right? He was sort of...intense. "Dave laughed but there was a strain to it, like the thought of Deran still unnerved him.  Adrian thought he would have liked that.  "Not the sort of guy you forget."

And wasn't that the truth.  Two years and six months later, Adrian's still trying to forget Deran.

Which is impossible when he’s sitting right next to him.

Adrian watches Deran relax back onto his elbows.  “So what was it like at the academy?”

“Like CrossFit on steroids.” He laughs.  “Protein shakes for breakfast lunch and dinner.”

“Then when you’re done wondering how other cops get fat you’re learning how to shoot like an asshole and escalate a situation?” It turns out three years isn’t long enough to rid himself of the habit of biting back with something equally acerbic but he reminds himself that to be who Deran is he has to have a healthy (borderline excessive) disrespect for the police.  The reminder relaxes his muscles, has his tongue creeping back in his mouth and instead of arguing he gives a little unconcerned shrug.

“It’s not perfect but there are a lot of good cops.  They just don’t make the news.”

And Adrian believes this to be true.  He didn’t ever think he’d drink the Kool aid after seeing all the same news stories, police brutality, shoot first ask questions never, but when you live in such close quarters, train and puke with the same people every day it’s hard not to bond.  It’s also hard not to fight but even after the bloods been spat out and the fists are sore there’s a string of respect for the other man that wasn’t there before both parties tried to make mulch out of each others faces.  Adrian finds himself moved to defend his brothers and sisters in law enforcement.

Deran nods, polite but unconvinced.

“Do they know about…” He trails off.

“About…?”

Deran gives him a ‘you know’ look.  Disappointment blooms inside of him before he can tell himself to remember who he’s talking to here.  “Me being gay?”

He averts his eyes, “Yeah.”

“It’s hard to keep secrets at the station, so yeah, they know.”

“So you’re all out and shit?” The levity in Derans voice is forced.

“I was never the one hiding.” Adrian replies coolly.

Chastened Deran looks down at his bare feet.

“But you are hiding.”

“Avoiding isn’t the same as hiding.” Adrian replies at length.  And then he adds, because he feels like it’s time for him to start being honest with Deran and he knows he won’t ever really be the new and improved more authentic, stronger version of himself he’s trying so hard to be if he doesn’t, ”I deserved a clean break.”

The way Deran flinches exposes his urge to argue and Adrian appreciates that he knows to stay quiet because it’s obvious Deran hasn’t changed and if he lashes out there is nothing to stop Adrian pushing to his feet and walking off in disgust.  Instead Deran nods like they both don’t know that Deran would never, could never, have given Adrian the clean cut.  Like they don’t both know that Deran would have made it nearly impossible for Adrian to leave him.

When Cody’s wanted something they took it.  That’s just how Deran was raised.

The lap of the waves count out the seconds and minutes they share in silence.  Adrian doesn’t know what he’s waiting for.  He doesn’t know what Deran’s waiting for either but neither of them is moving.  Deran looks like he’s in it for the long haul and Adrian is still looking for something, some sort of closure he supposes so he doesn’t move either.

“So…are you seeing anyone?” Deran speaks first.

Pope.  The boat.  Dave hooked up to IV’s looking small swallowed by tubes and machines in that uncomfortable looking hospital bed.  All the reasons he’s been avoiding Deran come back to ask him what the hell he’s doing sitting here right now.  Adrian twists his lips, “I’m not sure I’d tell you even if I was.”

“So that’s a no?”

“That’s a none of your goddamn business.”

Suddenly Deran twigs.  “Adrian come on.”

“Come on? Come on what?” It’s like Deran doesn’t even know what he did.  Like he doesn’t know that Dave dying, that his brother killing a man was a very real possibility with very serious consequences.  How could he forget that the Cody’s operate in and alternate reality where consequences are like mothers who count to three when their kids are misbehaving? It’s a cute tactic but there’s nothing at the end of it.

“I’m sorry okay?” He huffs like it’s such a hardship to not be an asshole for two seconds and think about how his actions have negatively affected another person.  To admit that he did a bad thing.

“Oh so you admit it now? You asked Pope to do it?” Adrian snorts bitterly.

Deran opens and closes his mouth like a guppy.  "I- I'm sorry."

He shakes his head in disbelief.  "Sorry doesn't erase what happened.  Sorry doesn't make everything okay."

“Three years is a long time to hold a grudge.” Deran retorts like he thinks Adrian’s being unreasonable.

He turns and glares at him.  "I held more than that for longer when we were..." he trails off, "Doing whatever the fuck it was you wanted to do."

"So it was all me? You weren't there for any of it?"

"You called all the shots."

"You never said stop." Deran scowls.

Adrian thinks about biting his tongue but there's something about Deran now that provokes a knee jerk reaction to defend himself, to prove he's not the same man he used to be.  The kind who keeps his mouth shut for an easy life.  He doesn't care for Deran anymore so there's no need to spare his feelings.  "Would you have listened?"

Deran shrinks back, looking suitably chastised.  Thick waves of tension roll off both of them.  “I didn’t…” His shoulders sag, “I didn’t know you were so unhappy.”

Even though it’s the truth it only enrages Adrian further because while he was hoping for closure from Deran eventually he didn’t actually expect to get it, but hearing him admit to something that Adrian has suspected for a long time doesn’t actually make him feel better.  It makes him feel worse.

“Do you know how fucked up it is for you to have sex with me and then call me a fag?” Adrian turns and leans forwards invading Deran’s space and snarling, “Of course I was unhappy.  Who just takes that?”

Eyes wide with surprise Deran has no answer that will satisfy him.

“Nobody that’s fucking who.” He spits.

“So is this why you wanted to meet? To tear me a new one?”

“No- yes…I don’t know.  I don’t know why I came here.  I saw you and…”

“And it was like before.” Deran’s voice is careful.

Adrian nods ashamed.  “This was a mistake.”  He pushes to his feet and brushes the sand off his ass.

Deran scrambles up, “If it helps everything’s shit for me.”

When he answers a humourless snort precedes the words, "It doesn't help."

“Why did you come here today?”

Adrian shrugs.

“I miss you man.” He confesses desperately.  “Do you miss me?”

Yes.

In an awful way.  In the kind of way that would make him a masochist and a very bad example to gay men everywhere, probably.  He misses Deran because he misses Belize and the kind of life they were living over there.  The worry free existence that consisted of being concerned only about how good the surf was gonna be.  Deran was there for that and so when he thinks about how he misses simplicity and the freedom of a beach thousands of miles away, he also thinks about the man he shared it with.  He doesn’t miss the drama, he misses talking to someone who knew exactly what the trees smelled like after the rain.  Who understood just how crystal blue the water was in the morning, who knew what the hot sand felt like beneath their feet.  Who remembers how they gasped as they made love in the evening when it was finally cool enough to move again.

The truth is at the tip of his tongue but it sounds so pathetic he swallows it back.

“I can’t do this.”

“Do what?” Deran starts walking and it takes Adrian a second to realise it’s because he’s started retreating up the beach.

“I can’t be here with you having this conversation.”

“What conversation?”

“Any conversation.” He says trying to reach the parking lot as quickly as possible.  Deran won’t cause a scene with eyes on them.  Certainly not here this close to the surf shop.  Except he feels Deran’s hand  try to snag his arm.  It’s surprising but not even his shock can stop him.

He’s such an idiot.  Such a fucking idiot.  Such a selfish prick.  How could he come here and look at Deran and miss him? It shits on Dave to compare a good man to a Cody and yet he sat there and did it.  He looked at Deran and a part of him missed him.  It’s fucking crazy to miss Deran when he has Dave who is kind and considerate and doesn’t call him a fag or try to hide their relationship.  Who doesn’t harbour a damaging amount of self-loathing inside his heart.

Who doesn’t beat him up in public bathrooms.

Deran catches up to him at the car.  “What the hell man?” He pants.

Adrian turns and pushes Deran into the car.  His skin burns where his knuckles press into Deran's shoulders.  He feels fire at the touch and pulls back.  “Leave me alone.”

“No.”

Adrian growls, “I said get lost.”

Deran steps forwards.  Adrian steps back wishing that keeping distance between them was enough to temper his guilt.  He's here with Deran because he stupidly wanted closure, because Dave has taught him how to hope again and it sits like a naive child in his chest and makes him think Cody's will spew apologies.  He's not here to forgive him.  He's not here to be friends.  He certainly isn't here to hook up.

And yet when Deran steps forwards and asks, "Is that what you really want?" the answer no ricochets through his body.  He stares at Deran through dark distrusting eyes.  Deran's search his for an answer but Adrian has none, or at least not one he should use.  Adrian's a little afraid because even though time has enabled him to see through Deran's bullshit he still feels like a mouse for this lion.

"Why did you come here?" Deran's voice is low now they're toe to toe.

"I don't owe you an explanation.  Not after what you did." He hates how affected he sounds and he hates the stupid twitch at the corner of Deran's mouth.  He does not get to look pleased about this.  He does not get to have the upper hand again.

"I come here because I miss you.  I know you probably don't want to hear it but it's true.  I miss you."

"You miss Belize."

"Don't you?" Now Deran looks affected and it chips away at his resolve.

He does.

"So what now?" Deran is closer now, able to move before Adrian can stop him.  He can smell the salt of the ocean on him.  It shouldn't be enticing.  He feels instantly turned on and fearful, both mixing to create an adrenaline rush that makes his heart hammer.  Deran's eyes are dark with want.

It would be easy to walk away.  One step back and another command for Deran to fuck off, and he knows he would because Deran creating a scene the first time is an anomaly and won't be repeated.  But it's easier to step forward.  To push their faces together so they can kiss.

They never kissed in public.

Adrian decides to test it though he already knows Deran will pull back.  He'll step off and give Adrian that outraged look and it will make up his mind.  It will assure him that he made the right choice in leaving the Cody family behind.  It will make Dave the right man for him.

He inclines his head.

Deran doesn't move.

He leans forwards.

Deran still doesn't move.

He slides his hand onto his shoulder.

Deran doesn't stop him.

He brings their faces together until there's nothing but a whisper between them and finally, finally, presses his lips to his.

Deran kisses him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Leave me comments and Kudos if you liked.  
>  _  
> There is not enough Animal Kingdom love on here. Come talk to me about it over at[Fanaste](http://fanaste.tumblr.com) on tumblr._  
>  <3


	5. Daddy (Mommy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> __
> 
>  
> 
> _He kissed you on the lips and opened your eyes. You had to catch your breath, got such a surprise. And you almost forgot how it feels to live in his lie._  
> 

**Adrian**

Adrian doesn’t know how it started but if Deran stops palming his dick through his pants he’s going to think about it and begin the rapid acceleration into regret.  There’s this pull between them, a desire to satisfy and destroy but they’re two sides of the same coin and so when Deran sinks to the floor it could be to praise him or curse him.  Outside the surf shop three years ago he swore it was over.  He thought he'd ended it for good but whatever's between them appeals too greatly to a self-destructive side.  They can call a hiatus but it'll never end.  Both men will drift apart but the waves will always push them back together.

Deran slides his zipper down in apology.  He hasn’t apologised but Deran’s readiness to serve when he feels guilty hasn’t changed and neither has Adrian’s sick pleasure at seeing him pay for his transgressions on his knees.  He watches Deran peel the tight elastic of his boxers down, he feels his sure grip on the needing flesh.  He hears the staccato of their breaths.  He looks down and Deran looks up and there’s _‘sorry’_ in his green eyes and there’s _‘good’_ in Adrian’s.  They hold each other’s gaze as Deran licks around the head.  Adrian’s mouth falls open, his voice mute in favour of feeling the hot wet caress of Deran’s mouth.  Deran makes a helpless sound, a whimper, maybe a soft scoff as he tries to take more of him.  Whatever it is it makes Adrian gasp.  He clenches his fist by his side fighting the urge to grab Deran’s hair and ‘help’ him as he begins to apologise profusely up and down, up and down.  The dark room fills with sound, Adrian’s short breathy groans, the wet sucking slurping sound of Deran’s mouth.  Occasionally the other man will moan but his mouth is too busy to make any purposeful noise.  He closes his eyes and listens to the sounds of their sex, he feels every suck, he feels the pressure of Deran's finger tips on the back of his thighs.  His hips jerk and Deran gags.  Adrian's dick is cold when it slips from his mouth but he doesn't move just lets Deran breathe between them until he's ready to get back to it.  When he returns he wraps the fingers of one hand around the base so that Adrian can't do it again.  He has enough brain power left to roll his eyes.  Even on his knees Deran wants control.

Adrian used to fantasise about tying him up, leaving him helpless physically the way he felt helpless emotionally.  He’d trace his dick over the seam of Derans lips ordering him to open when he was ready and then he'd fuck his face, gently at first but eventually it would get too much and he'd buck harder spurred on by Deran's choking.

In reality Deran is not tied, his other hand is free to move into his own boxers where he takes his dick in hand and starts to stroke it.  Adrian wants to tell him to stop but he's afraid it'll make Deran stop blowing him and he's so close to coming he doesn't see sense in risking it this near to the finish line.  Deran gasps and groans and suckles on his dick, pulling back to the head to work his tongue into the slit.  Stars explode behind his lids.  His balls draw up tight and Deran moves faster feeling the tensing of his thigh beneath his hand.  He pushes and pushes until Adrian makes a broken sound, a pained moan.  His release pulls from the very deepest part of him, it tugs at his muscles making him shudder and for a moment he can't make any directed move.  His body has taken over, severing his mind and he watches remotely as he bucks into Deran's mouth.

When Deran pulls off cum leaks from his lips down his chin.  It's so obscene it makes Adrian's spent dick pulse in a boy scout show of determination.

Body still reeling Adrian watches mute, legs spasming, Deran stands and set two hands on his shoulders.  He knows what comes next.

Except it’s not enough to have Deran say sorry with his pleasuring tongue.  It’s not enough to grant him forgiveness with a mouth full of cum.  He doesn’t want to steal moments that are more of the same, he wants change.  He calls the shots.

He doesn’t turn.

“I want to fuck you.” He announces.

Deran blinks surprised and Adrian doesn’t blame him.  He’d never asked to before, he’d always been happy to be the one to bend over, afraid to analyse too closely in case it threw up answers he didn’t like.  But he’s a different man now.

“I told you I don’t do that.” Quickly his surprise gives way to that old steady demanding stare _‘give me what I want or else’_ it says.

A thread of cruelty vibrates within him.  “You won’t let me fuck you because you’re not gay?”

Deran jerks.  The temptation to leave is strong but his hard on is stronger.  Adrian lets his eyes flicker down to it jutting hungrily between them.  "No,” he sounds desperately exasperated like suddenly they’ve had this conversation a thousand times before and not that long ago, “I told you it's just-"

"Just me.  Right." he says bitterly.  It seemed like such an ego boost once, that he could make a straight boy go queer but now he hears it for the true manipulation it was, it is.  Deran might not be gay but he's not straight.

He makes an impatient sound in the back of his throat.  “Adrian come on.  You want it, I want it.” Deran reaches for his waist but he rocks back on his heels.

The familiar feel of this emotional path beneath his feet cools his lust and he softens completely with no hope of return.  "No." he says.  "I don't want it like this."

Deran blinks at him in disbelief.  "Because I said no? Lots of guys don't like to be fucked but like to fuck - like tops and bottoms."

Adrian doesn't believe the way Deran says it like he's not familiar with gay sexual practices.

"Is this what this is? Is this because you don't out of some personal preference or because you still get to be straight if you're doing the fucking? Do you imagine I'm a girl huh?"

God if only this was about sexual boundaries and bedroom preferences.  If only he could believe this was about a physical limit and not something more, something firmer, something that will continue to fester inside Deran until he admits the truth to himself.  Adrian might have thought it was his job to help him once upon a time but Derans insecurities are not his to adopt anymore.

"What?! No! Of course not!" he looks outraged, genuinely insulted and it's a comfort, small but still.

"Then what?"

"I like fucking you!" They're both shouting now.

"And what about what I like huh? What if I like fucking you? What if you like it too? What then?"  Derans eyes warn him to stop but he can't.  It's all coming out, everything he thinks is ready to dive off the end of his tongue.  "Think mommy would be able to tell her baby boy got fucked in the ass and loved it? Do you think she'd be proud or would she think you're nothing more than some guys little bitch?"

Deran looks like he’s just been slapped and Adrian thinks he must look the same because he sure as shit can’t believe he just said that.  He wants to apologise.  He wants to take it back immediately but he’d need a time machine if he wants to touch Deran again after that.  Maybe it’s for the best.  If Deran kicks him out now he won’t get sucked back into this tar pit.  Physically it pays off but emotionally it leaves him insecure and yearning and he deserves better than that.  His hand twitches to reach out for the other man who hasn’t moved but is now miles away, but he stops and reminds himself that there was a reason he told Deran to leave him alone all those years ago. 

“Fuck you.” Deran mutters acidly when he gathers all the pieces of himself together.  “When did you get to be such an asshole?”

It’s all out now what’s one more truth?  He swallows, “When I realised the man I loved would never love me back.”

Unable to stand how utterly unaffected by his confession Deran will be Adrian pulls his boxers up and works on rebuttoning his pants.  “I should go.” He doesn’t meet his eyes.

Deran doesn’t try and come after him a second time.

\- - - -

He doesn’t know what he was thinking hooking up with Deran but try as he might he just can’t bring himself to regret it.  He thinks – no – obsesses over it the whole drive home but no matter how many times he revisits that moment, recalls the weight of Deran pushed up against him on the car, recalls the way his lips felt wrapped around his flesh, the look on Derans face when he wordlessly requested it, he isn’t sorry he did it.

He doesn’t feel overjoyed or even vindicated because it turns out Adrian knew Deran would disappoint him all along, but he doesn’t feel bad.

And that’s a big fucking problem because he’s pretty sure it makes him a sociopath.

When Adrian finally sticks his key in the door the apartment smells like bacon which is nice but a lie because Dave’s a vegetarian and Adrian doesn’t care enough not to join him when he offers to cook.  It’s a sickeningly domestic scene with no dirty socks or gross moulding plates in sight.  Dave’s a tidy man and so is Adrian resulting in their apartment being catalogue ready all the time.  He used to be proud of it but now it feels like such a shameless falsehood it makes him angry.  Here are their shiny granite counter tops, here are their perfectly plumped up couch cushions, here is the spotless hall with the shoe rack where they neatly stack their shoes, two by two in perfect pairs just like themselves.  Except they’re not perfect.

“Hey babe.  You were gone ages.” In the pan the ‘fakon’ sizzles.

“Yeah surf was good.”

Not so surreptitiously Dave glances at the clock.  Adrian’s been gone for hours.  Longer than the waves have been good for a surf.

“Then some woman locked her dog in the car so I was trying to help her open it.” The lie falls unbidden from his mouth.  He could have left it and let Dave wonder.  He’s not a suspicious man and maybe he’s not even thinking about Adrian’s absence but his guilt has reared it’s head.  It’s made him prickly and overly cautious.  Adrian feels like he’s full of broken glass moving gingerly so that his sharpened insides don’t break the surface and spill all his red sins onto the freshly vacuumed carpet.

“Oh yeah? She get the dog out? It’s hot today she must have been freaking out.”

“I broke the window in the end.”

“Man.”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be able to lock your keys in your car anymore?” He gestures to the cupboard and Adrian gets out two pastel plates.  A joke gift from Dave’s friends.  ‘Pastel rainbow colours for the reserved gay’.  Deran would hate them so Adrian told himself to fall fiercely in love with them.  He has no shame anymore…

Well he didn’t…

“It was an old model.  One of those classic box fords.” He doesn’t push it because Adrian knows nothing about cars and Dave knows it.  “Anyway she was super grateful as was the dog who did, like, the longest wee afterwards.”

Dave chuffs, “I’ll bet.  Here.” He hands him his plate but before Adrian can turn to the table Dave taps his cheek.  “Kiss the chef baby.”

Adrian pecks him lightly on the cheek, barely any contact between them, paranoid that Deran’s scent is on him even though he still smells overwhelmingly like ocean salt.

“Are you okay?” Dave turns off the stove his food cooling in the pan but he doesn’t look like he’s in a hurry to rescue it.

Adrian sets himself up at the table shovelling whatever it is they make fake bacon out of into his mouth and uses it as a reason to be distracted when he approximates a nod.  “Tired.” He says.

“Big waves?”

He nods shovelling in more food.

“Slow down man you’re gonna give yourself indigestion.”

Doing as he’s told he slows down.  “Hungry.” He grunts.

“Tired.  Hungry.” Dave growls playfully.  “You sound like a cave man.”

Adrian doesn’t look at him.

“Seriously are you okay?”

 _No I’m a terrible cheat with no self-respect or regard for your feelings._   He nods again.  “I’m just-“ he finishes chewing and swallows, “hungry and tired.  I think I might nap.”

“I think I might join you.”

Objection is on the tip of his tongue but he bites it back because if he wasn’t acting weird before denying Dave would be a glowing red sign declaring that something wasn’t right.  Dave isn’t stupid but Adrian doesn’t need to sweat it dodging bullets his boyfriend hasn’t even fired yet.  He will though, eventually, because a secret this big, rooted into the fabric of his being, won’t stay hidden.

 “I’m gonna shower real quick.  I smell.” He tries for a smile that doesn’t look forced.

Dave grins wryly.  “I didn’t wanna say anything.”

Adrian picks up his plate and puts it in the sink, then because maybe trying not to oversell means he’s been underselling it he presses a proper kiss to Dave’s cheek.  “Breakfast was great babe.  Thanks.”

\- - - -

Water still dripping down his neck Adrian falls face first onto Dave’s side of the bed and inhales.

“Miss me?”

Adrian looks over his shoulder at Dave grinning, boxers low on his hips exposing his toned abdomen.  Dave keeps it trim and Adrian has always appreciated the way he feels firm beneath his hands but he couldn’t be less in the mood to do what he thinks Dave’s angling for.  “I really am tired.” He lies.

Dave scrunches his nose up in mock frustration, “Bummer.  Move over anyway and we can cuddle.” Adrian obliges and Dave curls around his side, a thigh crossing over his thighs, his face at his neck nestling into the stubble rash from another man.  Adrian swallows too afraid, too disgusted with himself and heartbroken to move.

Dave rears back and does a double take at the bloom of red along the side of his face.  He even reaches out to touch it, his mouth opening to ask but at the last minute he changes his mind and says nothing just lays his head back on Adrian’s chest.

It makes Adrian feel like absolute shit.

He swears never to see Deran again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find Animal Kingdom madness and more at [my tumblr](http://fanaste.tumblr.com). We can yell together about problematic faves.


	6. Tell me how

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> _"I can't call you a stranger but I can't call you. I know you think that I erased you. you may hate me but I can't hate you."_  
> 

Deran steps onto the deck to find Craig lounging on two sun chairs that look much nicer than the ones he had out here yesterday.  On his chest a tub of branded ice cream slowly melts puddles between his pecs.

“Did you steal these?”

“Good fucking morning to you too.” Craig grouses food leaking from the corners of his mouth and catching on his beard.

“You’re an animal.” Deran grunts lowering onto the adjacent chair.

“I am a king.” Craig grins.  More ice cream drips and he wipes it away with a large hand.

“What are you doing here?”

Craig drops his spoon and twists to face him, “What’s with the hostility?”

“I can assume you didn’t bring that with you so now I’m down a pint and sitting on stolen property.”

Craig rolls his eyes with a scoff, “Oh that wasn’t you driving a stolen SUV like a bat outta hell last week?” He leans forward ducking his face so that Deran can’t avoid his teasing grin, “That was some other asshole? Pfft, man get outta here with your delicate sensibilities.  Half the shit in your apartment is stolen.”

Deran smiles despite himself.  Craig chuffs and spoons more food into his maw.

“Seriously though what do you want?”

The scrape of his spoon in the bowl precedes Craig’s reply and Deran tries not to focus on the way it makes his ears cringe.  “Smurf and Baz were arguing.  I had to get out before I got roped into their drama.”

“What are they arguing about?”

“Lena.”

Deran exhales.  “Let me guess, she wants Baz to let Lena move in?”

Smurf’s been itching to get Lena in the house ever since she was born.  At first Deran thought it was mostly to piss Cath off, who wouldn’t be fooled by Smurfs nurturing act, but now that she’s run off her motivations are anyone’s guess.

“I thought so too but they’re arguing about Baz being around more.”

“So Baz is a shit father now?” Deran snorts disbelievingly.  Baz was always Smurfs preferred parent.

Craig gives him his own incredulous look, “You think he’s a good one?”

Deran shrugs.  What does he know about parenting? Being an uncle is fun but half the fun is knowing that he can hand Lena back afterwards.

“Fuck if I know.”

“I doubt J thinks so.”

“I could give less of a shit what J thinks about any of us.” Which is a bald faced lie because you didn’t get your nephew in on the ass kicking of your boyfriend when he found you being blown in a public bathroom if you didn’t care what he thought.

“You haven’t heard the rumour? J thinks Baz might be his dad.” More spoon scraping.  “Or he did.”

This is the first Deran's heard of it and it strikes him as completely ridiculous but also…not? There’s been a weird energy between them, both before the base job and after that but Deran had his own shit to deal with and the less time he spends wondering about Baz the better he feels.

“Where did you hear that?”

“Nicky told me.”

Deran sits back for a beat, “Do you think he and Julia…?”

Craig shrugs, “I dunno man.  Julia was really fucked up.  He could be anyone’s.”

“Do you think he is?”

Setting the bowl aside Craig asks, “Does it matter?” He sweeps his hair from his face.

“Might explain some shit.”

“Like?”

“Why he’s so fucking squirrely.”

His brother leans back and gives him a considering look, “You really don’t like him huh?”

Deran shrugs.  He doesn’t so much not like J as feel incredible guilt every time he looks at his nephew and remembers all the shit between them.  Guilt on a Cody does not manifest itself as apology, when he looks at J he doesn’t feel the urge to say sorry for almost drowning him in an effort to scare him into silence over Adrian’s assault, rather he feels the urge to finish the job.  To silence J forever or erase the possibility of him ever having to face the consequences of his shitty actions.  He’s not proud of it, he knows it’s more than a dick move and yet…

The Cody Curse.

Craigs phone buzzes in his pocket.  He withdraws it, checks the screen and slides it back into his pants again.

“Nicky?” Deran guesses.  He’s been screening calls from that chick ever since they got together.

“Smurf.”

A frown rolls like a cloud over his face, “What’s she want?”

“Fuck knows.” Craig scratches at his beard and then, “Are you gonna, like, come home soon or what?”

Deran scowls at him and gestures aggressively to the space around them, “I am home.”

“I mean back to Smurfs.”

“No.  Why can’t you let his go? We all have our own places, even you! I don’t see you getting loaded and fucking in her house in the middle of the day.”

Craig does a shrug and shimmy but he doesn’t try and explain why he seems to bent out of shape by Deran’s bid for independence.  “Is it because of…you know?”  Deran blinks slowly giving Craig a moment to decide if he really wants to go there.  He does.  “You being gay?”

“No.” Deran snorts the lie burning the roof of his mouth as Adrian’s words echo in his head.

_“Do you think she’d be proud or would she think you’re nothing more than some guys little bitch?”_

“This isn’t about that,” he insists at Craig’s doubtful look, “I don’t care what she’d think of that.  I don’t!”

Craig is quiet for a long time, a record amount of time for those who know him.  Deran wonders if he’s gearing up to call him out, to tell him it’s time to grow up and quit lying to himself.  It wouldn’t surprise him.  Adrian was Craig’s friend too, if he ever found out the shit that went on between him he’d kick Derans ass.

“Have you, uh, seen Adrian?”

Deran tips his head back biting back on a growl of frustration.  He’s so sick of hearing Adrian’s name in the same conversations that mention his mother.  It’s like it’s proving what Adrian thinks, it’s like all the hard work he’s done to put distance between himself and that woman has been for nothing.

“I told you it was over.”

“Okay…” His brother replies slowly, “Only J mentioned he saw you the other day.”

Deran whips his head up so fast something clicks in his neck.  _That fucking kid._ “Where?” His heartbeat trips panic in his ears.

“The beach.”

“What the fuck was he doing there?” Rage streams through his blood igniting his cells and curling his hands on his knees into fists.

Craig gives him an ‘are you serious’ frown.  “Surfing man, what the fucking do you think he was doing?”

“I didn’t think he was spying on me!”

“Woah man.” Craig puts his hands up in defence, “No one’s spying on you Jesus.  It’s a public fucking beach if you didn’t wanna be seen you should have stayed inside.”

“Fuck you.” Deran spits.

“Fuck me? You’re the one that keeps telling me you’re not bothered about Smurf knowing you’re gay but the minute I say J saw you you lose your fucking mind.” Craig scoffs annoyed, “You’re so full of shit it’s unreal.”

Deran forces himself to stop and swallows uncomfortably around the lump in his throat.  “What-“ his voice is gravel rough and he swallows again, “What did J say?”

Craig chokes back a huff of irritation and settles instead for giving him a long meaningful look.  “That you weren’t alone.”

“…I saw Adrian.”

“No shit.” Craig deadpans.

“Shut up.”

“…So?”

“We hooked up.”

Craig’s grin is shit eating.  “How was it?”

Deran does a double take, “ _How was it_?”

Craig wrinkles his nose, “Not the hook up jeeze.  I don’t wanna know about him touching your junk.  I mean, just, seeing him again.”

Like opening up an old wound, watching the blood drip down on the floor and revelling in the sting.  “It was…good.” It was never going to happen again.

“So are you guys a thing again?”

Deran shakes his head, “We had a fight.”

Craig puffs frustrated, “You’re such an asshole.”

“Why am I the asshole?” Deran squawks indignantly.

Craig shoots him a look.

“It wasn’t me okay?” He bristles, “It was him.”

Craig’s ears practically perk up with intrigue, “What did you fight about?”

Deran could easily say ‘bottoming’ but that’s the wrong explanation.  Or rather it’s the right explanation but it’s too simplistic.  It doesn’t explain the ongoing argument they’ve been having ever since they met.

Ever since they got back from fucking Belize.

They weren’t just arguing about Deran not wanting to get fucked, they were arguing about Deran’s toxic internalised homophobia.  Something that no matter how long he stays away from Smurf, how adamant he is that he wouldn’t care if she knew he was gay, he still hasn’t worked out.  “Just…the past.”

“Man.” Craig slumps back in his deck chair.  “Do you think you’ll see him again?”

Deran shrugs, “I don’t think so.” And really isn’t that for the best? He kicked the shit out of him because he was too afraid to tell people he was gay.  His fear of being outed made another man, his boyfriend, physically bleed.  If he couldn’t admit he was in the wrong when his self-sabotage had collateral damage when would he? Deran knows deep down that there’s no way he’ll ever see Adrian again.  Not enough has changed between them, the cuts they inflicted have created deep wide fissures they can’t ever patch over.

Sensing the morose turn the conversations taken Craig nudges him and with a teasing smile says, “Yeah well, I always thought he was too good for you.”

Deran smiles but it’s a bitter thing.  He always thought so too.

\- - - -

Maybe it’s naive to think that when two people who have been skirting around the edges of their social circles, intersecting but never quite meeting, could suddenly collide and then go back to missing one another, but when Deran runs into Adrian again he is genuinely surprised.  They haven’t spoken once since their last encounter and he thought, like he told Craig, that that was the end of it.

But then he’d thought that last time too…

The blue and red lights illuminating his rear view don’t make his heart jump like they used to when he was a kid but the fact that he’s only just noticing them makes him think that the cop definitely caught the way Deran was too busy texting to be paying proper attention to the road ahead.  Figures he can steal money from a US army base but get caught texting and driving.  It’s always the tiny stones that trip you.  Deran slows and pulls to a stop, winds his window down and waits for the sanctimonious bullshit telling off he’s gonna get.

It's not until the cops at the window and speaking that Deran pays attention.  “Sir do you know why I pulled you over?”

Deran slides his shades down, his blue eyes careful but overly concerned – not about the ticket anyway, he gets the feeling this isn’t about a traffic violation.

“This about the other day?” His voice is barely more than a mutter.

Adrian nods shifting his weight from left to right.

“I’m sorry.” The words sound punched out.  They sound like Deran would say them.

He blinks, "What?"

"For how I acted that night.  I was an asshole." 

Deran’s quiet for a long time, his silence considering.  He taps his fingers against the worn leather of the steering wheel then takes a breath.  “I probably deserved it.”

“No.” Adrian doesn’t even hesitate, “I was angry.”

Deran remembers that Adrian is better than him.  That his confessions have always been for his benefit and never for anyone else’s.  Deran always envied him the ability to be vulnerable.

“I know.”

“But not about that.”

Deran gives him a look, “I know.”

“We shouldn’t have done what we did.”

Deran nods like he agrees.  The wounds they’ve split are seeping old secrets that should have stayed festering beneath the scab.

“I’m in a relationship.”

And some new.

“Oh.”

_I always thought he was too good for you_

Adrian swallows, “For a while now.”

His palms begin to sweat.  “It serious?”

“Yeah.”

Adrian.  Such a good guy.  Too good for Deran.  So fucking good just because he isn’t in the closet.  Is that the base with which he’ll be measured against? It’s not okay for Deran to be closeted but Adrian can be out and cheating?

Deran frowns.  Scowls actually.  “So serious you let me suck your dick?”

“It’s complicated.” He excuses lamely.

“No, it’s not complicated.” Deran grips the wheel tighter anew.  “you know everyone thinks you’re this great guy.  ‘Adrian’s solid man you can rely on him.  He’s a good guy, too good for you’ – that was from Craig by the way.” Adrian’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.  “God they’re so wrong.”

“They’re wrong?”

“Yeah they’re fucking wrong!” He snaps.  “You are not a good guy, you’re not this perfect person.  You’re a liar!”

Adrian frowns, “Takes one to know one right?” He snaps.

“…At least I don’t deny it.  I know who I am.”

Adrian gapes like that’s the biggest load of bullshit he’s ever heard.  Like he can’t believe Deran’s had the audacity to say something like that to him.  “Fuck off!” He sneers.  “You know who you are?” He scoffs bitterly, “You have no idea who you are but you hate it.  Whoever you think you are or could be you hate them.”

Deran slams his hands on the wheel.  “You don’t get to judge me!”

“I don’t? You think I don’t know you well enough to do it right?”

Deran’s mouth clamps so tight pain shoots through his molars.

“You don’t know who you are but I do.  You’re a fucking coward.”

His nostrils flare, “Fuck you.” He spits.

“We did that already.”

Deran peers hard at him, “Is this about that guy?”

“What guy?”

“You know what guy.” The one I almost got killed.

“You can’t even say it.”

“You want me to say it?”

“Yeah I want you to fucking say it!” Adrian shouts his hands white knuckled curled over Deran’s car window.  “I want you to fucking admit what you did to Dave.”

“I didn’t do anything to him!”

“Liar!”

Realisation brings resentment, “Is that who you’re with now? That guy?”

“Even if I wasn’t it wouldn’t change what you did.  You could have killed him!”

His lip curls meanly, "Good thing he had you to play nurse maid."

"Oh that's real nice.  You got any more? You wanna poke holes in my masculinity? You want to call me a fag? Go ahead.” Adrian leans into the window and snarls, “No really fucking say it."

Deran recoils.  He doesn’t want to call him things like that.  “Stop.”

"No you stop! If I'm a fag you're a fag too and believe it or not Deran that's actually okay because there is nothing wrong with being gay you self-loathing hateful asshole!"

"I never said there was!"

"Didn't you? Your foot in my chest kind of felt like you saying it was wrong."

"I told you I was sorry."

"Did you?"

"You want me to say it again? I'm sorry!"

"Why does an apology sound so forced coming from you? I'm sorry." he mimics.  "It's like a child apologising because someone's told him he should and not because he regrets what he's done."

Deran inhales then in a small voice, eyes averted he says, "I do regret it."

"Regret what?" he needles.

"Everything."

"Be specific.  Do you regret being an asshole? Do you regret forcing me to keep our relationship to myself because you were scared of your mother?"

“This isn’t about her!” Deran growls.

"It's always about her!" he shouts.  "It's always about Smurf.  You beat me up in a bathroom and fractured my ribs all because your mom has your balls in a jar!"

"Fuck you." Deran revs the engine.  "What do you want from me Adrian? It's not a relationship.  It sure as shit isn't a second chance obviously.  So why did you kiss me back?”

Adrian reels back looking stunned.  “I-“

“You can beat me with the past all you want and I’ll take it because I deserve it okay? I...I deserve it.  But you kissed me back." He puts the car in gear.  "You kissed me back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr at [Fanaste](http://fanaste.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys liked.  
> There is not enough Animal Kingdom love on here. Come talk to me about it over at Fanaste on tumblr.  
> <3


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